Overprotective Daddy
by Rani-Girl
Summary: AU in which Pitch doesn't turn into the boogeyman and his daughter starts to date. Oneshot.


**I don't own RotG or the book series. While I finish my chapter of my other story, I wanted to write something kind of humorous (in my somewhat sadistic opinion) to break away from my current dreary style. It's an AU where Pitchiner never became the boogeyman and lives with his family. I don't know for sure his daughter or wife's (or if he even had a wife) names, so I took Seraphina and made up Aurelia.**

Aurelia was beginning to think her husband was having fun scaring away Seraphina's little boyfriends. Everytime the poor boy would run off in terror, he was grin maliciously, sometimes chuckle at the boy's fear until his daughter's angry screams pierced his ears. Perhaps scaring teenage boys infatuated with Seraphina out of their wits reminded him of the dream wars. While everything was finally safe and he was more than glad to be home - he was bored, too.

True, Kozmotis never physically harmed a boy, but he had come awfully close at times. Unfortunately for him, the crime of dating his daughter wasn't enough to maim or kill anyone, and his conscious wouldn't allow him to overlook that. However, it didn't seem to have any quarrels over leading the poor fool to believe he would.

Aurelia remembered the first boyfriend Seraphina brought home. Her daughter was standing out on the porch, waiting for her date to arrive. She had been sitting on the couch in their living room, reading a book. Kozmotis had placed a target right next to the front door, about five feet and five inches high above the ground. While she was busy reading, and Seraphina waiting, he was shooting arrows, _practicing_, making sure his archery skills were still intact.

Please.

"How many times have I told you to take that outside?" she asked him, not looking up for she already knew what he was up to.

"It's getting a little late to be outside, isn't it?" he replied, letting an arrow fly. It struck dead center. Pulling another arrow into place, he continued, "And I need to keep up my skills, or I'll lose them. Come now, you know I won't break anything."

"If you're so confident, why practice?" Aurelia took a sip of the coffee on the table next to her.

"Just to be sure," Kozmotis answered, letting the arrow go. It split the previous arrow in half.

"Hm. Just don't kill our daughter or her boyfriend when they walk in, dear."

"Of course not, honey."

Ten minutes, three chapters, two boards, and 45 arrows later footsteps and talking could be heard outside. A male and a female voice, to be exact.

Aurelia glanced up at her husband to see what his exact actions would be. Just because she could speculate what he would do, didn't mean that would be what would happen.

Kozmotis' head darted to the side, looking out the window. He straightened back into place, took an arrow, and positioned it in the bow, reeling it back. He waited until the door knob began to turn to shoot.

The poor teenage boy, who was standing less than an inch from the board, paled. The arrow had hit the very far edge of the board, narrowly avoiding the boy's face.

Kozmotis grinned. He said cheerfully, "Oh, I'm so sorry. It seems my aim isn't as impecable as it used to be. I do apologize."

Aurelia rolled her eyes, taking another sip of her coffee.

"Uh - uhhh..." the poor boy stuttered.

Seraphina's eyes flashed dangerously.

"Please, do come in!" Kozmotis darted forward, yanked the boy inside, and swiftly deposited him on the couch. His demeanor changed from cheerful to deadly instantly, smiling vanishing. He leaned down closer to the fearful boy's face. "Now, let's get down to business," he said, skipping all formalities. "No touching my daughter, no kissing, hugging, _absolutely no sexual contact_. In fact, if I find you so much as held her hand, I will decapitate you. Stay at least eight inches away from her. Refrain from using provactive language _in any way_, or I will hunt you hunt you down and gut you like a fish. Have her home no later than 7:30 - "

"Dad, it's 7:28 right now!" Seraphina fumed.

"Oh, look at the time ~ " his cheeful demeanor returned.

"Kozmotis," Aurelia warned.

He glared at her like child before turning back to the boy with new venom. "No later than 9:30. Do not be late. Even if you return 14 seconds into the minute I will consider you late. If you hurt my daughter in _any way_ I will make sure you never see the light of day again. Are we understood? Yes? Good." He smiled politely. "Before you leave, would you like to see my weapon collection from my days as a general?"

That was it. The boy darted up, fear written clearly across his features. He shot across the room, shoved past Seraphina, who put herself out of the way before he did anyway, and was out the door before Kozmotis could stand up properly.

"Hmm," he mused, smiling satisfactory. "If he can't stay that long, I'd say he's no good for - "

_"DAAADDDYY!"_

Aurelia closed her book, watching almost sadistically as her daughter chewed Kozmotis out throughoughly, him barely trying to defend himself.

Everytime after that he would try similiar and new methods of scaring the living daylights out of boys. It was a wonder Seraphina continued to bring dates home.

One evening, as Kozmotis was sharpening daggars and other types of knives in the kitchen gleefully, Aurelia laid down, reading one of her books in their bedroom, when there was a knock on the door. Seraphina opened it. Aurelia lowered her book.

"Is something the matter, sweetheart?" she asked.

"Daddy's sharpening daggars," she said bluntly. "He's going to use them on my date tonight, isn't he?"

"Yes, well, this is boy number 12, isn't it?"

"I just talked to him, and he promised not to do anything," she continued.

Aurelia raised an eyebrow. "Did he?"

Seraphina pouted. "He thinks I didn't see his fingers crossed. Mom, he's ruining my love life!"

"He's just being over-protective, sweetie. He means well," she told her. 'Not to mention, bored and slightly sadistic,' she thought.

"I can take of myself," Seraphina crossed her arms.

"True. You are your father's daughter after all." Aurelia marked her page and closed her book. "I'll tell you what; if he does anything tonight, tell me and I'll deal with it. He knows my patience is wearing thin with this little game of his."

"So why haven't you stopped it before?" her daughter complained.

"Is it wrong I find the idea of you lecturing your father amusing?"

"Ugh! You're both sick!" Seraphina threw her arms up in disbelief, turning around to head back downstairs.

At that moment, Kozmotis entered the room, gazing after his daughter questionabley. "What's wrong with her? Oh! There is it! Almost forgot my sword!" He picked up the sheathed sword he insisted on keeping around in case anyone ever attempted to break in the house.

"Kozmotis," she grabbed his attention, "Don't do anything stupid tonight. Give the boy a chance before you chase him down the street with a sythe like the last one."

"Number 11 attempted to kiss her!" he argued, then smiled deviously at the memory.

"At least give the boy time to introduce himself," she said. "Don't you find it odd we never learn her dates' names before you scare them away?"

"No, not at all, really," he answered whimsically.

Aurelia narrowed her eyes. Kozmotis stiffened. It was the same look her father gave him the night of their first date.

"Don't. Mess. This. Up. For her. Are we clear, Kozmotis?" she asked threateningly.

"Y-yes, ma'am." He set the sword back in place and darted out of the room.

Aurelia shook her head at his sillyness before returning her page.

Forty minutes later she heard her husband yell, "Seraphina, if you value your father's life you will not mention this to your mother! Sera- SERAPHINA!"

**I imagine that if Pitchiner was married, his wife, being a military wife, would be kind of...well, not a pushover, I guess? ^^' And have some kind of control over her husband. He himself might not use those of methods, but I definately imagine him over-protective of his daughter, especially if she had a love life. xD**


End file.
